• The Guardian (1): Something to Believe in.

    The streets filled with screams.
    A gunshot fired.
    The lights faded.
    Almost like a play written on someone’s life, ready to close the curtain as the final scene was played out. Was I the villain by per chance? Or merely a onetime character with no importance. No...I had a life and he ended it, it matters not if I was important to him or not. I was important to those who cried for me as my coffin was buried in the cold soil

    Mother who loved me once, do not stand before my grave and weep.
    I am not there, I will not sleep.
    Until my murderer shall be punished, for the pain he caused to you and I.
    Angels watch over my mother for I cannot.
    But one day we’ll be together, as time goes by.

    There’s a place I like to go when I feel alone on the cold, windy nights of silence through the city streets. The rooftops of every building in this area, it has a cold feeling, the seasons are attracted to the cold and only the cold can get to the hearts of the citizens here. Upon the highest building there sits a little girl on some nights dressed in the same lightly coloured dresses from the previous nights. She prays there and sits until an angel will answer her prayers to bring her sister back to life. She sits there for hours without end sometimes until she falls asleep, then her father comes and takes her home. Pitiful, perhaps, that someone cannot move on towards their future instead of meddling in their sorrows. Well, isn’t that what I’m doing? Not moving on without finding my killer is the reason why I shall not move on towards the afterlife, I refuse. I suppose I shouldn’t look upon people’s sorrows trying to make them less superior to my own. This girl might be much more interesting to watch other than to just pitifully look down upon from the skies. I looked into her bedroom window to find her writing on pieces of rectangular paper charms and putting her wishes on them then sticking them to her wall. Then writing even more. I felt strangely depressed by her actions, yet she was smiling cheerfully as she aimlessly stuck her wishes upon her bedroom walls. I faded into her bedroom and one by one I read her wishes, carefully considering them:
    “I wish sister would come back to me so we could play like we used to”
    “I wish I had a friend who’d stay with me forever”
    “I wish that father would stay home more often”
    “I wish that you chant everyone else’s dreams before mine”
    The last one, I read, was quite painful in some ways, mainly by the way she writes all of these over and over but still wants to wait until everyone looks down upon her before she can be able to look towards her future. I wrote down two wishes myself:
    “I want this girl to be able to see me so I can make her dreams come true as well as mine. I wish we could confront our sorrows together and overcome them with our hearts”
    Is it strange the compassion I felt for that little girl running up and down her bedroom sticking wishes upon her walls, when she knew that they would perhaps never be granted until the very last. I suppose, she wants what I want. Happiness. Sorrow to be overcome and to believe in hope. Something to believe in when you look towards yourself in a mirror, something... anything. I can hold her when she is crying but she will never feel me there, I can only hear her weep her sorrows and feel her tears drop towards my hands as I wipe them away.
    “Who are you?” The girl spoke looking straight towards me with her eyes wide, scanning me like radar.
    “You can see me?” I said quietly trying not to scare her.
    Did the angel...answer my wish? Sister said that that angels will answer your wishes if you wish really hard... Are you the angel?” She said as she grabbed my arm to make sure I wouldn’t leave.
    “Yes I’m the person who’ll watch over you from now on” I whispered in her ears as I gave her a hug. I stayed with her that night, until she fell asleep in my arms; I’ll hold you until you stop crying little one.
    I’m not an angel but I’ll watch over you, until we rid of our sorrows.